


fill me in (don't sink me)

by euadnes



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Christopher Diaz is a National Treasure, Episode: s03e03 The Searchers, Hurt/Comfort, If You Squint - Freeform, Mentions of Death, Post-Tsunami (9-1-1), Scenes from a field hospital, Trauma, feeling realization
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-26 16:21:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30108717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/euadnes/pseuds/euadnes
Summary: In the flashing red lights and chaos of arriving refugees, Eddie loses sight of everything else happening around him. Amplified by the adrenaline coursing throughout his blood stream, every fiber he has is focused on the child in his arms. His child, his brilliant, beautiful, remarkably dry son. Eddie does the only thing that makes sense, follows his basic instinct to carry the kid to safety.“Daddy,” a tiny voice brings him back. “Where’s Buck?”Eddie lost track of him when the others grabbed him. One minute, Buck was in front of him, falling to pieces and taking Eddie apart with him. The next, Eddie was staring across the tarmac at him, watching him collapse as his knees buckled. Bobby and the others ran up out of nowhere to catch him in time, no doubt just as surprised to see him as Eddie was.“Dad, I saw him go into the water. You have to find him.”
Relationships: Christopher Diaz & Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Evan "Buck" Buckley & Christopher Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Evan "Buck" Buckley & Eddie Diaz, Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz
Comments: 19
Kudos: 428





	fill me in (don't sink me)

**Author's Note:**

> This is me writing out my frustration at the lack of damage control the show gave us after the tsunami. A girl needs closure, damnit.

In the flashing red lights and chaos of arriving refugees, Eddie loses sight of everything else happening around him. Amplified by the adrenaline coursing throughout his blood stream, every fiber he has is focused on the child in his arms. His child, his brilliant, beautiful, remarkably dry son. Eddie does the only thing that makes sense, follows his basic instinct to carry the kid to safety.

“Daddy,” a tiny voice brings him back. “Where’s Buck?”

Eddie lost track of him when the others grabbed him. One minute, Buck was in front of him, falling to pieces and taking Eddie apart with him. The next, Eddie was staring across the tarmac at him, watching him collapse as his knees buckled. Bobby and the others ran up out of nowhere to catch him in time, no doubt just as surprised to see him as Eddie was.

Buck was in good hands, Eddie knew. Now, he had to take care of his son.

“I don’t know, Chris,” he says as they start towards the field hospital.

Christopher shifts in his arms, trying to pull himself further up on Eddie’s shoulders. Thin neck twisting and stretching, struggling to look around.

“Dad, I saw him go into the water. You have to find him.”

Eddie’s stomach clenches. The urgency at which Christopher says the words, he wants to console him, make things better. He doesn’t know where to begin. _What in the hell happened to them?_

“Christopher, he’s here, don’t worry. I just saw him.”

But he was gone. Swallowed up in the crowd. The amount of people surrounding them like a flood is starting to make him nervous.

The child is his arms jolts again and Eddie has to fist the back on his shirt just to hang on.

“Buck!” Christopher calls weakly.

Somehow, he’s there. A gray blur. Eddie feels a presence at his side and Christopher reaches for something he can’t see. A shadow in his peripheral.

Buck is standing just out of reach, miraculously alive, and Eddie still can’t wrap his head around any of it. Buck had told him they were at the pier. Ground zero. Eddie had been there too, hours after, in a boat. Nothing left standing after the ferris wheel finally collapsed. _How was this possible?_

He recognizes the miracle for what it is, tries to focus on the present.

“You’re okay,” Buck lets out in a half sob, like he can’t believe it either. “Buddy, I’m so sorry. I turned my back for one second, and you were just swept away.” His words stumble and pour out of him, splashes of despair on the pavement.

“I’m sorry, Buck.”

“No no no Christopher it’s not your fault, it’s mine, okay?”

“You were saving people. You saved me, too.”

Eddie is watching all of this, gaze locked on Buck over the top of his son’s matted hair. Buck’s eyes jump to his, and he looks terrified. Eddie can’t imagine what he sees.

“Eddie...”

The way Buck says his name cuts clean through him, and he feels a part of him slip away, defenses crumbling.

Christopher is still reaching for him, and Buck can’t ignore him any longer. He leans, let’s a small arm envelop him in an awkward hug. Without thinking further, Eddie takes a half step closer and uses his other arm to bring them all together in a tangled mess of arms. Eddie’s whole world huddled together in a square foot of space. Someone is shaking. He suspects it’s Buck. For a brief moment, he brings a hand to touch the back of that blonde head, a gesture meant for reassurance. Gratitude.

The arm around him squeezes, firm, doesn’t let up. Buck smells like the sea, and a little bit like gasoline and sweat. Sharp, coppery blood. Eddie recalls the first glimpse he got of him, hanging off the IV drip. The torn up t-shirt, bruised face, and everywhere else, smeared crimson.

“Let’s go get warm, huh?” Eddie says, trying to control the shake in his voice. He knows exactly what happened. He doesn’t know when it happened, before or after he and Christopher were separated, but at some point, Buck was hurt, and if Chris was already missing, then anything else, taking care of himself included, became unimportant.

As they separate, Eddie tries to take a subtle look down to check Buck out.

The man twitches, feeling Eddie’s eyes on him. Tries to move his arm out of sight. Eddie gets a glimpse of a crude bandage near his wrist, tattered and soaked through.

He jerks his chin toward the building. “Come with us.”

Buck nods, eyes still barely meeting his. He doesn’t have much of a choice. Christopher has a hand fisted in Buck’s grimy shirt to keep him close. The walk forward is made more difficult that way, but Eddie doesn’t have the heart to separate them. Buck is glued to his side, quite literally, as they enter the temporary hospital.

The flood parts for them. Eddie doesn’t even have to say the words.

“Please, my son –”

“Over here,” a small Hispanic woman signals. He had been helping her perform triage not even fifteen minutes ago. Now he is the one who needs help.

She leads them to a cot, clears off the clean towels that were stacked there. It looks like it was just brought in, still wrapped in plastic. The plastic stays.

Eddie finally pries Christopher’s fingers from his and Buck’s clothing, heart pulling right along with them. He shushes the frantic whine that comes out of his son’s mouth. “Shhh. We’re here, we’re not going anywhere.”

Buck lingers, seemingly lost. Eddie doesn’t even know how he’s still standing. Gently, he pushes him down by the shoulders to sit by Christopher’s side. He goes, pliant underneath Eddie’s steady hand.

“Where did everyone else go?” he asks Buck, referencing the rest of their team.

“Busy,” comes the gruff reply. Buck’s lips are pressed together, eyes glaring out the door. Even after everything, it’s still a sore spot for him. “You should be helping, too.” At least in the way he talks to Eddie, he doesn’t sound as accusatory as he did this morning.

“No,” Eddie kneels between the both of them, a hand on each knee. “No way.”

He moves to take a closer look at Christopher. Incredibly, he’s relatively unharmed. There are minor scratches here and there, the scrape on his cheek. His son looks at him, clear eyed, manages a toothy smile at the feel of his father’s hand on his face. Eddie feels himself close to tears. From what he’s seen today, it could’ve been so much worse.

Next to Chris, Buck sways, eyes vacant, and Eddie doesn’t know how to begin to help him.

A nurse in blue scrubs comes by, looks to Eddie to start speaking.

“He’s on blood thinners,” he begins, and his voice sounds like it’s coming from another person entirely, high and tight with fear. “Buck, can I look at your arm?”

Gingerly he takes it, peels away the tacky bandages though he hardly can distinguish them from skin. He gets there eventually, only to find an inch-long gash along the tough outside of Buck’s forearm. It’s not too deep, _thank god,_ but it’s still a mess.

“Sir, do you know how you got this wound?”

Buck looks at the nurse like he’s just realizing she’s there.

“There was a kid,” he squints, voice far away. “Trapped under a sign.”

That’s all he offers. Eddie helps the nurse clean and dress the wound properly while Buck watches.

“Is he allergic to antibiotics, or any other medications?” the nurse asks him. Eddie’s partially taken aback. He doesn’t know.

She advises they procure some, somehow. Leaves them, hopefully to bring him whatever she can find.

Buck seems to flicker between the present and whatever horror his mind is reliving. When Eddie takes his hand, he’s doesn’t notice.

“Hey,” he says. “Buck, come back.”

It’s a struggle, but blue eyes find their way to his eventually. Buck stares, really sees him. Rosy lips part with blood shot eyes.

Someone has to speak. Eddie takes a stab at it, treading lightly.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” _Anywhere I can’t see._ Even though it’s his job, for some reason he is afraid to touch.

Buck’s voice drags from his throat. He tries again, wets lips. “No.”

When Eddie brings his hands up, they shiver. He feels himself slowly unraveling.

“Eddie, I’m okay.”

It still sounds like he’s giving him permission. Eddie’s fingers press into Buck’s stomach, his sides. Inspects his skull, feels for bumps that don’t belong. Now Buck is the one who shivers.

“You’re cold.” Eddie observes.

“That too.”

When he’s satisfied there’s nothing seriously wrong, other than scrapes and bruises, Eddie travels a few cots down for some blankets. He’s wrapping one around Christopher while Buck gets himself warmed up, when a couple comes up to them. A woman with dark hair reaches for Buck.

Eddie wants to react, put himself between these strangers who came out of nowhere and Buck, but he gets himself under of control once he poses them as nonthreatening.

“It is you,” she says to Buck, then smiles at the man with her. “He saved me. The water was carrying me away and he pulled me out.

Buck gapes at her, stutters. “I – you don’t have to –”

“Thank you,” she presses a hand to his bicep. Then her attention focuses on Christopher, huddled into his side. Her face grows soft, amazed. “You found your boy. Good, we were all so worried.”

She doesn’t wait for an answer, just smiles and thanks him again. The man nods at him, too, and then they’re gone.

A void is left in their wake, one that Eddie isn’t quite sure how to fill. He comes back where Buck can seem him. He needs a minute, Eddie knows He needs a break, rest, anything. Eddie wants to give him that, shield him and Christopher from the rest of this place, feels inadequate when he knows he can’t. So, he starts where he can.

“Your phone-?” he tries.

Buck’s brow comes together as he slowly shakes his head.

Eddie pulls out his instead, still in the water proof pouch. Opens it to see the thread of texts that Buck never answered. That he probably never saw.

**Don’t know if you got the news. Wherever you guys are, stay put. Tsunami hit near Santa Monica.**

**Things are bad down here, but let Chris know I’m okay. Keeping busy. Hope you’re safe.**

**Did you get my voicemail?**

**Can you keep Chris overnight? I don’t know when I’m getting off.**

He closes the thread, scrolls through his contacts for a minute. “I should call your sister, she’s probably worried sick.”

It doesn’t take long to realize he doesn’t have Maddie’s number. With Buck the way he is, and Eddie being around the most often when things go wrong, he needed Maddie’s contact information _yesterday._

“Do you know her number?” he asks.

Something clicks. “Maddie’s on the way here, I think.”

That’s news to him. “You talked to her? When?”

“Borrowed someone’s phone. She didn’t want me doing something stupid.” He grumbles the last sentence, scowling.

Eddie doesn’t quite understand that last part. His timeline hasn’t really started putting things together for him, and he’s bothered by it. Eddie is a man of order, he likes knowing how things are happening, and when. He likes control, and none of this, his job, his family, his whole day, is fitting nicely into the way he likes things. There’s an edge somewhere, and he feels dangerously close to it. Just needs to find his way back, except he feels blind. Eddie stands on weak knees.

“I’m gonna find some food.” His brain supplies him that helpful action. Something doable. He’s afraid that Christopher will protest if he leaves but the hand that was grasped in his slides away quietly and latches onto Buck. Eddie leaves them leaning on each other, Buck staring down at the brown curls in awe.

Chimney is just a room away, as it turns out. Eddie wasn’t searching for anyone in particular, it was more of an aimless wander.

“Eddie, what happened?” Chim asks, pausing in his task of unloading oxygen tanks.

He doesn’t know where to start. “I-I don’t know, they were down at the beach, Buck said.”

Dark eyebrows shoot up, climbing toward his frazzled hair. “What? What happened to the movies?”

“Trust me, Chim, I wish I knew. Have you seen any food around here?”

“I don’t know, protein bars, maybe? Try over there.” He points Eddie toward a tent full of volunteers unloading crates. Before Eddie leaves, Chimney stops him. “Buck, is he okay?”

“Yeah, they both are, I think. Please, Chim –”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry.” He let’s Eddie go. “See ya, Eddie,”

Outside, he’s able to procure some meager snacks. He figures peanut butter crackers are better nothing. Since he’s still in uniform, Eddie is pulled a dozen different directions before he can make it back. He does manage to dump the handful of cracker packages into Buck’s lap as he passes, and one look over later informs him that they’re in good hands.

Chimney is checking in on them, taking vitals and letting Christopher listen to Buck’s heart with the stethoscope.

His kid is smiling. He survived a horrific disaster, went through god knows what, here he was, laughing at the way Buck’s heartbeat sounded in his ears.

Before Eddie can stop it, the tide rushes in. He takes a step back behind a curtain as the heat rushes his behind his eyes, bubbling over in the form of hot tears. The fear, the blinding grief that he felt for those precarious, short seconds, followed immediately by a surge of relief that he was still coming down from, it all comes crashing back like a rogue wave. Now this: the sight of his little family, the family he chose, miraculously alive in the midst of all the horror he has seen today.

It’s more than he can take, so he lets the emotions wash over him, silently, secretly. And when he’s done, he goes back out, and helps in any way he can.

Though Buck warned him, Eddie is surprised to see Maddie sprinting into the building, somehow managing to find Eddie first. She surprises him again with a hug.

“You look like you’re having a day,” she says, simply.

Eddie remembers that she used to work in a hospital and is probably no stranger to this. Or to seeing Buck in this way, so he leads her to her brother without a word.

Christopher is practically asleep sitting up, still leaning bodily against the giant man next to him. Buck doesn’t look far from passing out either, hand loosely clasping a half empty pack of crackers. His demeanor changes entirely when he hears his sister’s voice.

“Evan!”

“Maddie?”

She swoops down on him, gathering him up into standing somehow, and then they’re hugging. Maddie is crying, Buck might be too, but with the state of his face it’s hard to tell. When they separate, Maddie’s attention is drawn to Christopher, who was startled into wakefulness at her arrival. Eddie realizes they barely know each other, but that doesn’t stop Maddie from leaning down and giving him a gentle squeeze anyway.

Christopher, ever the hugger, no matter how tired he is, returns the hug with enthusiasm.

The Buckley siblings turn to face each other again. Maddie’s face crumples first. “Buck, what are you doing down here?”

It’s a good thing she doesn’t wait for an answer, though Eddie suspects she already knows, because judging by the wrecked look on Buck’s face, Eddie doesn’t think he’s capable of giving one. Maddie hugs him again and doesn’t let go, that is until Chimney cuts in. Another round of hugs. Eddie slides over to the cot quietly to sit with his son.

“Dad?”

“Yeah, Chris?”

“I wanna go home.”

Eddie’s heart cracks because he knows that voice. The multilayered kid voice of tired, sad, and scared all packed into one sentence.

“We will, soon, I promise.”

Bobby has come over now, aware that Buck is being collected. Eddie calls to him. His shift is far from over, but given the circumstances, he thinks he’s owed at least this.

“Hey, Cap, I need to get my kid home.”

As he knew he would be, Bobby is instantly understanding, telling them to get home safe and ruffling Chris’s hair.

“Bye, Buck,” Christopher’s small voice carries over to the group, drawing Buck’s attention immediately. He comes over to kneel down in front of the cot and the child gets a thin arm around Buck’s neck again. Eddie barely catches his next words, “Love you.”

The way Buck’s eyes squeeze shut and his throat jumps is something Eddie thinks he’s not likely to soon forget. A tongue darts out to wet his lips, and there’s moisture in his eyes when he opens them, as he whispers, “Love you back.”

Before Eddie picks up his son, he puts a hand out to stop his friend. His best friend. The man who risked it all to keep his family whole.

Buck eyes him warily. He just looks so tired, so afraid. _Of Eddie._

Eddie wants to say something, but he can’t not without his voice breaking under the shocking weight of the look Buck is giving him, so he just pulls him into a bone crushing hug instead. Makes his voice strong enough to get out a _thank you_ , lips almost touching the shell of his ear so that there’s no way Buck doesn’t hear him. Strong arms finally enfold themselves around Eddie, a cold nose buries itself into the junction of his neck.

When they part, there’s a little less dignity between them. Nothing is going to be entirely the same after tonight, he knows, for either of them. And with that knowledge, an anxious lump forms in his throat. It’s for Buck’s sake, as well as Christopher’s, and a little for his own. Christopher might be okay now, but who knows how he’ll be tomorrow and from then on? Eddie could only pray that the kid wasn’t exposed to much out there.

Buck on the other hand looks more and more like he’s coming back to himself, with the presence of his sister and Eddie’s quiet reassurance that no, he doesn’t hate him for what happened. Eddie doesn’t want to be mad, he’s too exhausted for that right now. He just wants _answers._ And maybe there is a little part of him that feels angry. It’s too untamed to comprehend right now, but it doesn’t feel directed at Buck. It doesn’t feel directed at anybody, but it is there, beating furiously against his collarbone, pushing upwards –

Eddie swallows it down. He can be mad at the world another day. Right now, he just wants to put his son to bed, maybe get a few hours of sleep himself.

He stoops to pick up Christopher, gets a hand on Buck’s shoulder to lead him out. Maddie hurries to take her place at Buck’s other side. When they reach her car, Maddie unlocks it and turns to say goodbye to Chimney. Eddie opens the passenger side door for Buck, who’s eyes close the second he leans back into the headrest. Eddie hesitates to shut the door, not understanding why. Feels an odd pull when he looks at the man in the car. Then a rude thought interrupts: he also doesn’t have a ride.

“Hey, Maddie,” he says, sheepish. “Do you mind giving me a lift to the station so I can get my car?” Eddie feels slightly foolish asking but she understands. Thankfully, it’s partially on the way to Buck’s apartment.

Traffic around the field hospital is a nightmare, just as expected. The inside of the car becomes a kaleidoscope of multicolored flashing lights as they crawl through police directed traffic. Christopher is light sleeper, so Eddie isn’t surprised to look down at the child tucked into his side to find him looking around in awe. He can’t see much, sunk down so low in Maddie’s sedan. That soon turns out to be a blessing in disguise.

When Eddie looks up out the window, attention drawn to the sudden flood of spotlights, his stomach flips. They’ve come to a stop next to what looks like the parking lot of a strip mall. The tarmac ripples and shines a dull black, and for a confused instant, Eddie wonders how there is still water this far inland. But then a pair of medics, glowing white, carry something heavy over to join the rippling sea and with dawning horror Eddie no longer sees a dark ocean. Instead, a sea of bodies wrapped in black plastic bags.

A noise forces its way up his throat, one of surprise and despair. He buries his face into his son’s hair to muffle it, presses a kiss to the crown like that was his intention.

Then another sensation, eyes on him. He lifts his head a fraction to look forward and finds a pair of blue eyes watching him. Whether Buck knows he’s doing it or not, Eddie can’t tell. All he knows is that looking back at Buck is a hell of a lot better than looking outside. Buck blinks, once, twice, expression unreadable. Eddie wonders if their thoughts are the same.

“Don’t look out the window, Christopher,” comes a raspy voice from the front seat. Movement beneath him. Chris twists slightly under his arm, and Eddie quickly lets up, not wanting to crush him, but making sure he follows Buck’s direction. He does. Christopher tilts his face forward so that’s he’s looking at his feet, his ruined shoes.

“I spy,” Chris says, voice pausing, “something green.”

Now Buck moves, twisting in his own seat to face the child, and Eddie doesn’t miss the wince as he shifts his body. Eyes move over Eddie, then down and Buck gasps, mock surprised.

“Your shoelaces?” he guesses.

Christopher nods. “Your turn.” It’s more of a demand that a request.

“Okay, hm,” Buck looks carefully at him again, and Eddie can tell he’s really trying to drag this out. There’s not a lot in this car to choose from.

“I spy…. with my little eye,” that causes Chris to giggle, an extradentary sound. “…something that is gold.”

Christopher’s head swivels around, searching. Eddie watches, a strange twist to his mouth like he can’t quite comprehend what he’s seeing yet.

“I’ll give you hint,” Buck says, carefully, because he can tell Chris is dangerously close to looking out the window. “It’s in this car.”

The car has moved maybe ten feet. Eddie catches glimpses of Maddie’s eyes in the rearview, sees her unease and the urgency that he also feels. He tries to focus on the game, mostly because it does make him feel better, seeing his son come to life like this. There’s something else, too. The inclination that this isn’t the first time Buck and Chris have done this.

“Dad’s wedding ring!” Chris cries joyfully, after several long seconds. A tiny hand pats Eddie’s left hand, which was sitting on his thigh. Eddie turns his hand over, slightly self-conscious, and grasps his son’s fingers in his own.

“That’s right.”

“Good job, mijo.”

“Do you want to keep going?” Buck asks.

“Yes.” Christopher pauses, thinks. A tinkling laugh. _God, this kid._ Eddie doesn’t think he could love anyone more if he tried.

“I spy…something pink.”

Buck looks stumped. He frowns at Eddie, not finding anything pink there. He even looks down at himself, searching.

“Uh, my scratch?”

“No!”

Eddie smiles then, secretive, leans down to whisper to Chris. “Can I take a guess?”

“Sure,” Chris giggles.

He turns and locks eyes with Buck. “Is it his birthmark?”

Chris jolts, clapping. “Yeah! Good job, Dad.”

Buck grins at them both, cheeks darker than they were a minute ago, or maybe that’s because they’re finally far enough away from the spot lights. “Wow, good job, buddy. Looks like you won this one.”

“I’m getting better at this game.”

“Yeah, you are.”

Chris turns to his dad then, smiling up at him. “Buck taught me ‘I Spy’ today when we were on top of the firetruck.”

It’s like the air has been sucked out of the cabin. Eddie somehow finds Buck, whose face has fallen, crisscrossed with shadows and scars. That look in his eye is back, the one where he thinks Eddie is going to hurl insults at him. Up in the driver’s seat, he can tell Maddie wants to deescalate the situation somehow. Her fingers flex on the steering wheel nervously and her eyes keep jumping to the backseat.

“That’s awesome, buddy,” Eddie says. “Buck’s a good friend, huh?”

“Uh huh,” Christopher nods, then snuggles closer.

In the front seat, Buck deflates, face going slack. His relief is palpable, and seems to work over Maddie as well. The atmosphere inside the car relaxes. Buck settles facing forward again and doesn’t look at Eddie until they’re back at the station. Even then he seems to tiptoe around Eddie, helping him load Christopher into the car and watching him when Eddie goes to collect his personal items from inside. His hands are featherlight on Eddie’s back when they hug goodbye. Eddie watches him retreat to Maddie’s car, feeling inadequate, adrift. Wishes desperately that he was better at knowing what to say at the right moments, instead of clamming up and pushing others away.

It isn’t until they’re driving away, Maddie waving from over the steering wheel and Buck sitting back, eyes closed, that Eddie recognizes the pull he felt earlier for what it is. Eyes on his dozing child in the backseat, he feels a similar pull, going one direction. Another strong pull, flowing outward, stretching and stretching the further the red taillights travel ahead of them until they disappear entirely, but the pull remains.

It takes a while for Eddie to reassemble his fractured thoughts. Gets it together enough to work the gear shift, turn the heat on, and drive. Drive towards a home that for several long months has not felt whole but only half, splintered and broken. A real time mirror of how Eddie has tried and loved and lost, and maybe now, found again.


End file.
